


Voiceless

by GreyKestrel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Magic, More tags/characters to be added as story progresses, mild violence, mute character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyKestrel/pseuds/GreyKestrel
Summary: "I don't understand," Kenma said as Nekomata carefully cleaned the cut on his forehead. He was lucky the rock had missed his eye, the child who’d thrown it was known for having good aim. "Why is being magical a bad thing?"Nekomata sighed. "Out here, on the borders far away from the cities and big towns, people are scared easily. They don't like things that are different or unusual, because things that are different and unusual can also be dangerous."Kenma was born more special than he or anyone around him knew. Then his life was turned upside down by an encounter with a mysterious man, the meeting leaving him unharmed but voiceless. He and close friend Noya continued to survive as best they could in a world that shunned them, but the poor decision to steal from Prince Tetsurou Kuroo might have been a stroke of luck in disguise.With the kingdom on the brink of war and the enemy searching for an artefact that will give their dark magic users an edge, Kenma finds out he has a much larger role to play in the world than he ever expected. Turns out there was a very good reason he was cursed to have no voice all those years ago…





	1. Prophecies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my work for the Haikyuu Big Bang!
> 
> Thanks to Eli for their beta work on the first chapter, even when I sent them things to look over super late in the game. Without you Nekomata would have at least a dozen differently spelt versions of his name.
> 
> A huge thank you to [Yaine](https://yainedraws.tumblr.com) also for creating the art piece to go with this story. They put up with my lazy ass and was able to create and amazing picture that captures the feel of the story and looks pretty damn swanky to boot!
> 
> Here's hoping you all enjoy the story! Please subscribe or bookmark to stay on top of updates and any kudos and/or comments are greatly appreciated! <3

The young King of Nohebi, Suguru Daishou, looked down at Sakishima with a sneer that he reserved only for the most unpleasant news that was delivered to him. The few other attendants in the hall attempted to hide themselves away in the shadows, of which there were many in the cavernous throne room. It was hardly an inviting place. The architecture was designed to intimidate and incite uncomfort in those who entered. The King’s looming wrath just added to the room’s unpleasant atmosphere.

“That’s it?” King Suguru asked. His voice was calm but his true feelings were betrayed by the way his hands clenched the arms of his throne. “I’ll build up this kingdom, become more powerful than even my father, and then some _kid_ will come along with a magical voice and destroy it all?”

Sakishima shuffled his feet slightly, hands shifting where they were hidden and crossed underneath his robes. He felt it was probably not prudent to point out the King himself could still be considered _a_ _kid_. "Prophecies are not always as clear as one would like them to be, and they do not always come to pass in ways that you might expect. If they come to pass at all."

"So why did you feel the need to inform me of this?"

“Not all prophecies come to pass, but that does not mean we should ignore one when it is presented to us." Sakishima inclined his head towards his King. "I would recommend you work to guard yourself against such a future. It may be a good idea to change your current course of leadership or improve on your defence in preparation."

"Why would I do that?" Suguru snorted, amused.

Sakishima shifted again, his face marred by the slightest of frowns. It was the first hint of expression he had shown throughout the entire meeting. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I don't seem to understand your reasoning."

"You wouldn't," Suguru said, though maliciousness didn’t seem to be his intention. Instead he simply sounded bored. "My reasoning is- why would I bother putting effort into your suggestions when we can cut this off at the pass?"

"Cut this off at the pass...?"

"Indeed. We find this person, child, _whoever_ , and take them out of this equation. My father had people hunted down and killed all the time when they posed a problem. How hard should it be to find some magic child and shove a sword through their chest?" Suguru stood from his throne. "In fact, I might just call a meeting about that now."

"Your Majesty, that may not be the best approach to this situation. Prophecies are… finicky. If one tries too hard to change fate, sometimes we just force its hand." Sakishima’s attempt at reason was lost on Suguru as the young King strode purposefully towards the doors of the throne room. His personal guard followed closely behind him.

Suguru waved a dismissive hand toward Sakishima who was now hurrying after the King. "How could this go wrong?"

"I'm simply saying that I have a lot of experience in these magics and, forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty, but I do worry that you will not succeed with such a crass plan." Sakishima was halted in his steps when Suguru turned on him. The young King stalked up to his magic advisor and stopped just short of him. Despite Sakishima currently holding the height advantage it was very clear he was being looked down on in that moment.

Suguru’s level voice felt thundurus in the room’s noticeable silence. "Sakishima, you have served my father well and you have served me well since his passing, but who are you to question _my_ decisions?"

Sakishima bowed his head in deference. "You are right, Your Majesty, I was mistaken."

Suguru considered Sakishima’s words for a long minute. "Yes, you were. Have this prophecy written up. Be as detailed as you can about this magical voice person. If we want to find them quickly we'll need the best description we can get. You're dismissed, Sakishima." Suguru turned, continuing his stalk out of the throne room.

"Your Majesty," Sakishima began, "shall I attend this meeting to inform-"

"I said you're dismissed, Sakishima," Suguru repeated, cutting him off.

The throne room doors rumbled and closed with a deep clang behind the King. Sakishima was left in the cavernous throne room, staring at the doors with an overwhelming sense of dread creeping into the back of his mind. Dread for himself, his kingdom, and most of all, his King.

 

**~ ○ ○ ○ ~**

 

Kenma had always been a quiet child. When he did speak, however, it was like he made magic happen. He brought a smile to his parents’ faces, while they were still alive. Now the only people left for him to make smile were Nekomata, a distant relative who had taken him in when his parents had passed, and Noya, a bright and energetic kid his own age also taken in by Nekomata. Kenma was welcomed into their modest home with open arms and love, feeling content for the first time since his parents has passed.

The people of the village Nekomata lived by were not nearly as happy to have Kenma in their midst. Kenma had never garnered much attention in the town he’d come from but he could always feel eyes on him now. Villagers would shy away from him in the streets, the worse ones would occasionally hurl abuse if they were feeling brave enough. It was the blonde hair, Nekomata informed him after one particular incident.

"They believe you might be cursed, or worse, magical."

"I don't understand," Kenma said as Nekomata carefully cleaned the cut on his forehead. He was lucky the rock had missed his eye, the child who’d thrown it was known for having good aim. "Why is being magical a bad thing?"

Nekomata had sighed. "Out here, on the borders far away from the cities and big towns, people are scared easily. They don't like things that are different or unusual, because things that are different and unusual can also be dangerous. Unfortunately your blond hair is very unusual."

"But why?" Kenma asked. "What's wrong with blond hair?"

"It's an old folk tale, is all. Many people believe that blond or yellow hair is a sign you have been touched by magic in one way or another."

Kenma's head tilted slightly to the side, taking that in. "And is that why they don't like Noya either?" Kenma looked towards the other child out in Nekomata's yard as he chased crows around the small vegetable patch. "He has yellow hair, right here." Kenma tugged on a lock of hair just above the middle of his forehead.

"That is why." Nekomata smiled but it was tinged with sadness. He dipped the cloth he was using to clean Kenma’s face into a small bowl of water. When he brought it back to Kenma’s face it was to gently start washing dried blood from his eyebrow.

"Is it worse then?" Kenma asked.

"Is what worse?"

"That all my hair is yellow?"

"To small minded and scared people? Yes. But to myself, and Noya? Not at all."

"Oh." Kenma glanced back towards Noya. The boy was loud, a bit too loud sometimes for Kenma's liking, but he was kind too. Kind, honest, unwaveringly loyal, and he didn't care that Kenma had yellow hair.

Kenma grew quite fond of his new little family in the short time they had been together. It didn't matter now what the villagers and the other children thought. Nekomata and Noya were more than enough for Kenma. The forest that bordered the back of Nekomata's small cottage was far more interesting than the village and its one main street anyway. When Kenma and Noya explored it was not behind houses and in back alleys, it was between trees and inside caves. There was no one to judge them in the forest, no one but the plants and the animals and they didn’t care one bit about the colour of a person’s hair.

It was in the forest that Kenma found himself one sunny afternoon. The forest of tall, strong trees had become a haven for him with its soft, persistent damp and light that filtered through shifting green. It was peaceful in a way Kenma had never imagined when he lived in a bustling town with his mother and father. For all that he enjoyed simply spending time amongst the trees, there were occasions when he was sent out with particular task from Nekomata. That afternoon was one of those occasions.

Medicinal plants and mushrooms grew abundant in the forest if one knew where to look for them or, for someone like Kenma, if you asked politely. He didn't know when it had started but he remembered the first time he noticed it. Frustrated with his inability to find a particular plant Nekomata had in short supply he spoke to the air. "It would be nice if there were some white bloom daisies around." He'd circled a particularly large tree after that and nearly stepped onto the biggest patch of white bloom daisies that he had ever seen. A patch of white bloom daisies he was sure hadn't existed in that part of a forest a week ago.

The trend had continued on Kenma's expeditions to the forest, his voiced wishes taking form in one way or another. It was a downed tree when mentioned to Noya they needed firewood for the winter. A cave of rocks, there one day when cursed a lack of shelter from a sudden downpour and gone the next when he went in search of it. Kenma didn't give it much thought until one memorable incident with a large bear that had wandered into the area of forest behind Nekomata’s cottage.

Kenma hadn't even heard the creature’s approach, too engrossed in plucking mushrooms from beneath a gnarled and moss covered stump. It was the huff of the bear’s breath and the loud crack of a branch under its sizeable paw that finally had Kenma's head snapping up. Gold eyes met across the clearing and Kenma paled. He didn't know what to do with a bear, normally they stayed away from this part of the forest because of the human activity. He was stupid to think that meant they would never wander through.

 _Please go away_ , he had thought desperately as the bear moved towards him. It snapped its maw at him a few times, deep wuffs of warning escaping its throat. Kenma wasn’t sure if it was best to get up and bolt or simply play dead and hope the bear simply moved on.

"Go away, just go away," he muttered under his breath, shrinking back against the tree stump. The bear stopped in its tracks at the words and Kenma wondered for a startled moment if it had actually _understood_ him. With another huff of breath it turned away from Kenma and ambled past like it hadn't been about to make a meal out of him there on the forest floor. Kenma had leant weakly against the tree stump for a solid few minutes as he tried to come to terms with his close call. When he finally remembered the bear could come back while he was sitting there panicking he had scrambled to his feet and ran all the way back to the cottage. The mushrooms lay forgotten in the grass.

Kenma was less worried about what he would find in the woods after that day as all it took was a few quiet words to have fate twisting to his will. Kenma tried not to think about it too much. He used his newfound ability only when he needed to and was very careful with his words lest he accidentally did something he would regret. Still, his abilities had brought with them a sense of safety when he ventured out on his own into the forest. Of all the days to be heading out alone, however, it might have done Kenma well to be a little more cautious of his surroundings on this particular one.

He’d heard the hooves on the ground before he saw the rider. It was unusual to have riders in this part of the forest but not unheard of, so Kenma had paid it little mind. Instead he continued fetching the latest plants Nekomata had wanted retrieved. He gave the rider a little more thought when he noticed the thundering hooves were coming closer and not passing by like he assumed they would.

Kenma had barely stood out of his crouch when the rider burst into the clearing, pulling his horse up short next to where Kenma stood. The rider of the horse was a tall man, thin too, and he towered over Kenma from his seat in the saddle. Kenma could make out the glint of a delicate pair of spectacles perched on the man's nose but the rest of his features were hidden in the shadows of a hood pulled low over his face.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something,” the man finally said.

Kenma hesitated. Normally he left the talking to Nekomata or Noya. Noya loved to talk and he was far better with people than Kenma ever would be. Neither of them were with him at that moment so Kenma cleared his throat. “What do you need help with?” His voice was quiet but it didn’t waver.

There was a moment of silence between the two that hung heavy in the air. Kenma shifted his feet, the lack of response making him uncomfortable. He wondered if it would be considered rude to just turn around and leave at this point. He was a heartbeat away from actually following through with that train of thought when the man finally moved, pulling back his hood in a sweeping gesture. The first thing Kenma noticed as the heavy fabric fell away was how the man was younger than he thought. The second was his shockingly blond hair, just like Kenma’s.

“I’m looking for someone.”

Kenma felt like he was being scrutinised while also being looked straight through as he locked eyes with the young man. It was a disconcerting feeling and it was almost like he was compelled to speak when he asked, “Who?”

He didn’t know if he imagined the slight downward turn of the man’s lips.

“You.”

Noya had found Kenma later that day sitting on the doorstep of Nekomata’s cottage, dazed and unable to remember anything of the day. When asked what had happened Kenma opened his mouth to speak but no words escaped. Not even a sound could be produced. Nekomata had searched and searched for a cure but everything he tried turned out to be fruitless.

From that day forward Kenma was left with a gaping hole in his memory and no voice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Edited 21/12 for spelling and grammar.


	2. Thieves

“Kenma, nothing will go wrong,” Noya said, trying to appease Kenma. They’d been having having variations of the same conversation all morning, ever since Noya had come back with what he’d called ‘good news’. “We just sneak in, take what we need, and then get out again just as quick. It will be easy.”

Kenma frowned, eyebrows quirking just the tiniest bit higher on his forehead. The subtleties of the expression were almost lost under his mop of hair, still vibrant yellow bar almost two inches of new growth that was black as night. 

Kenma’s hair wasn’t the only thing that had changed over the past couple of years. The biggest was the passing of Nekomata, who had been as fit and healthy as anyone else until he wasn’t. They had buried him by the field of wild flowers he had enjoyed so much. Some of the villagers had even ventured out to pay their respects to ‘Old Man Nekomata’ but Kenma and Noya might as well have been invisible to them. It was a trend that had continued when a harsh and early winter hit later that year. Kenma and Noya found themselves with little food and even less help from the villagers who used to trade with Nekomata. The pair were quick to discover they had been tolerated in the past thanks to the good will Nekomata had inspired, but that had died along with the kind old man.

They had managed for a while but as time went on things became more desperate, and the more desperate things became the more risky Noya’s attempts to keep them whole, healthy, and alive had become. Kenma couldn’t entirely blame him for his actions because he understood what had lead to them, but he also wasn’t willing to let his one and only friend and companion risk everything on a whim. So he did his best to convey his feelings on the matter without words. Noya may not have been the best a reading people but after years spent with Kenma unable to speak he’d gotten quite good at reading his expressions. This current one was used when Kenma wanted to express extreme skepticism at something. It was one Noya was very familiar with.

“I scouted the camp over, they have more than enough food to share. Enough to feed an entire village for a week-- more than a week-- if they wanted too. They aren’t going to miss a tiny bit of food.”

Kenma raised a hand to tug on the hair at the peak of his forehead pointedly. Noya mirrored the motion, his own fingers running through a small tuft of blond hair.

Noya chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry about that.”

Kenma did worry about that. He gave the hand sign for ‘ _ bad idea’ _ . It was one of the first signs they had come up with, mostly because Kenma had quickly grown frustrated with trying to express the notion to Noya without the aid of words. Other hand signs and gestures had quickly followed for simple phrases or words Kenma used often.

“I have  _ odd _ luck, not  _ bad _ luck,” Noya insisted, like there was really any difference between the two. He placed his hands on Kenma’s shoulders and squeezed slightly. “Trust me. Please, Kenma. We’re not going to have another chance like this before winter sets in.”

Kenma was silent for a long moment. Silent in a way that wasn’t just because of his lost voice but from his thoughts ticking over as he weighed up their options. It was the thoughts of hardships faced last winter that helped to make up his mind. He raised one of his own hands to grab Noya’s arm and squeeze gently. It was an acceptance, Kenma’s way of telling Noya,  _ alright, let’s do this _ .

“We’re not going to regret this, Kenma.” Noya grinned, wide and bright despite the circumstances the pair found themselves in. Despite knowing that most of the town would let them starve before giving them scraps. Despite the fact another harsh winter with little food could see one or both of them not making it to the spring.

Despite the fact that if this escapade went wrong they may not need to worry about getting through winter at all.

Getting from Nekomata’s old cottage to the elaborate camp set up on the outskirts of the forest had been an easy task for Kenma and Noya. Having spent a large amount of their lives in the forest for both Nekomata and their own amusement, the pair were able to sneak almost into the camp itself without detection. They hid behind one of the larger trees, blocked from sight when they peered around the trunk by some particularly thick underbrush.

Noya pointed out a particular tent on the edge of the brightly coloured fabric village. “That one,” he said. “I saw them moving crates of food in and out of it earlier. Fresh fruits and vegetables, dried meats, everything you could imagine is in that tent.”

Kenma nodded. It was a risky plan but Noya had done a good job in bringing it to his attention. Kenma would rather they went in together than Noya attempting to steal on his own like he had in the past. Despite Noya’s insistence that the magic that clung to him was ‘odd luck’ it wasn’t uncommon for that to end up as ‘bad luck’. Kenma wasn’t sure if his own presence helped to prevent that bad luck or not, but at least with the two of them they could have each other’s backs.

Noya passed Kenma an old hessian sack, one of two they had salvaged from Nekomata’s cottage. The plan they had come up with was a simple one. First they would sneak in through the back of the tent, fill the bags with as much food as they could carry, then sneak back into the cover of the forest. From there it was simply making their way back to the cottage before night fell. 

“Now,” Noya whispered, moving to dart towards the tent. He was thwarted when Kenma fisted a hand in his shirt and pulled him back behind the cover of the trees, just in time to avoid being spotted by an armed guard. They watched as the guard passed by their chosen tent, passed their hiding place, then turned at the next tent to head back towards the center of the camp. The both let out a sigh of relief.

Kenma poked Noya hard in the back of the head and gestured towards where the patrolman had disappeared. He followed it up with the sign for ‘ _ why? _ ’.

“I told you the camp looked important,” Noya said sheepishly. “It would make sense they have some kind of protection.”

Kenma responded with,  _ bad idea _ , having firmly changed his mind in the last thirty seconds. A bit of extra food wasn’t going to be worth it if one of them ended up impaled on a spear.

“Fine, it’s a bad idea but we’re here now so why not?” Noya pushed himself up from the ground and sprinted towards the tent before Kenma could stop him.

Kenma hesitated. He wished he had a voice purely so he could groan out loud as he watched Noya duck under the fabric at the back of the food tent. He had two options now, either wait for Noya to return or go help despite his reservations. 

Kenma chose the latter, darting after Noya before the guard had a chance to appear again. He wiggled under the back of the tent, following Noya’s lead, and found his companion already shoving food into his bag. Kenma tapped his arm, made their agreed hand sign for ‘ _ quick _ ’ and ‘ _ bad idea _ ’ again for good measure. Noya had the gall to roll his eyes but did nod his agreeance,  so Kenma also hurried to fill his sack with the available food.

Despite the same goal, the pair approached their tasks very differently. Where Noya was taking anything and everything that looked appetizing, Kenma spent a little more time perusing the food stored in the tent. He tried to find food that would last some time, either already preserved or things they themselves could preserve with little effort. His bag was half full when they heard the voices outside the tent. Voices that got louder as the speakers got closer and closer.

“The front riders said His Highness is bringing back a boar!”

“I believe we have some fine fruits that can be cooked with it. If we can start quickly perhaps even some sauces.”

Kenma and Noya shared wide-eyed glances before Noya was hastily pushing Kenma towards the back of the tent. “Go, go, go,” he whispered, punctuating each word with a gentle, if hurried, shove. 

Kenma didn’t need the encouragement. He rushed towards the back of the tent and pulled aside the fabric, not worrying about being delicate at this point. He stumbled out into the sunlight and open air-- right into the guard who they had been so careful to avoid earlier. 

Both the guard and Kenma went down hard, but Kenma was quickly hoisted back to his feet by a hand under his arm. The guard was left stunned on the ground,

“Quick, Kenma!” Noya shouted, running into the forest.

“Thieves!” the guard shouted as he finally realised what was happening. “Thieves on the west side of camp!”

Kenma could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he crashed through the forest after Noya. Behind them he could already hear heavy booted footsteps and shouting but he didn’t slow. Looking ahead he could see Noya pulling away from him. Noya had always been the faster of the two and already Kenma could feel his breath coming in gasps. He glanced behind and almost instantly regretted it. Thundering through the trees were three or four men, he didn’t have the time to count properly, all brandishing weapons and yelling at him to stop. Kenma couldn't help but wonder how often people did stop in the face of angry men threatening them with blades.

He turned back to keep running after Noya only to find that Noya was nowhere in sight. For a minute he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes darting around the trees for any sign of him. He couldn’t have gotten that far ahead in the short time Kenma wasn’t looking. He must have turned off to the side at some point but Kenma couldn’t see  _ where _ . 

“Get him!”

The yelled command gave Kenma just enough warning to dive forward and avoid the guard that grabbed for him, but now his lead was gone. With as much power as he could muster, Kenma swung the bag of food in his hands and tossed it directly into the path of his pursuers. It halted them long enough for him to take off at a dead sprint once again through the forest. He had no idea where Noya had gone, no idea if his friend was even okay still. They hadn’t come up with a backup plan for if the got seperated so Kenma was left to try and come up with one on the fly.

Surely Noya wouldn’t be stupid enough to double back towards the danger so that meant he was heading back towards Nekomata’s cottage. It was some way from the camp they had just stolen from so it would be easy enough to lose anyone following them in the forest. So, Nekomata’s cabin it was. Kenma just needed to get his bearings and then he would be fine. 

Getting one’s bearings while on the run however was a little more difficult than when one had all the time in the world. Kenma knew he had to follow along the edge of the forest to get back home, but they had run straight into the trees when they fled. It meant he would have to veer off to the side and make his way back to the forest edge, because there was no way he could just turn around and go back the way he came.

So caught up in his thoughts and the urge to  _ run, get away _ , Kenma didn’t even notice the procession of horses coming back along the hunting trail until he barreled out of the trees and right into their midst. For the second time that day he found himself colliding heavily with the ground, this time after slamming into the side of a grey speckled horse. He covered his head as the horse reared back, startled, and curled himself into a ball on the ground in an attempt to protect himself from the thrashing and stomping hooves all around him.

“Easy!” he heard the rider of the horse he ran into call as he tried to get his horse under control. “Hey, are you hurt?”

It took Kenma a moment to realise the rider was directing the question at him and not the horse. When he finally did realise all he could do was lower his arms away from his face and peer up at the rider with wide eyes. The rider was young and probably not that much older than Kenma. He was tall with black hair that stood up messily on his head except for a part that hung partially over his right eye. Said eyes were sharp and narrowed as they peered down at him, but the look was tempered by the slight frown of concern on his face.

Kenma found himself frozen under the gaze, not sure what to do. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t reassure them, couldn’t explain himself. It was easy with Noya and Nekomata he realised in light of having to interact with strangers for the first time in a very long time. His mouth opened reflexively however, closing almost as quickly when not a noise escaped.

“What on earth is the hold up?” Another voice, another young man on a horse. This one sounded decidedly inconvenienced though. He pulled his horse up next to the dark haired man and stared down at Kenma. His hair was lighter than the other’s, curly and brown, but his gaze was less kind and more openly dismissive. “Are you just going to ignore the Crown Prince then?” he said. “I’m sure that’s some form of treason, isn’t it, Prince Kuroo?”

It felt like a desert had taken up residence in Kenma’s mouth. This was the Prince. He’d ran into the Prince’s horse. They’d  _ stolen _ from the Prince’s camp. Shakily Kenma got to his feet, thoughts bouncing between bowing in deference and bolting back into the forest. He was well aware that every eye in the hunting party was on him and almost half the hands in the Prince’s retinue had inched towards weapons when he moved.

“Your Highness--” a man with long brown hair began, but he was interrupted by a familiar voice yelling out over a stampede of footsteps.

“Kenma!” Noya yelled as he burst onto the trail, only to be tackled to the ground by the guards following him. 

The Prince was now staring wide eyed at Noya as he squirmed under a guard who looked to be twice his weight and height. “What…?”

“Your Highness,” another guard said as he stumbled onto the trail, panting and out of breath. He still managed a bow, his slightly more decorated uniform giving away his role as a superior. When he was once again standing straight his eyes locked on to Kenma and widened in recognition. He pointed. “There’s the other thief!”

Spurred on by his words one of the other guards was quick to grab Kenma by the collar of his shirt. Not putting up much of a fight, Kenma was dragged to what the guard deemed a more appropriate distance from the Prince.

“Oh my,” said the brown haired young man, still perched atop his horse like he was sitting at a show. “Isn’t this an interesting development.” He gave the Prince a conspiratorial glance but only had a dirty look shot back at him.

“Head Guardsman, what is going on here?” Prince Kuroo asked.

“Your Highness,” the head guardsman said, bowing again in a way Kenma thought might have been overkill even in the presence of royalty. “These two were caught stealing from the royal food reserve in your camp.”

The Prince’s gaze ran over Noya, still on the ground, and then Kenma. Kenma ducked his head when the Prince turned to him but could still feel his eyes lingering for a long moment, longer than he had taken to give Noya a once over. “They don’t seem to have any food with them,” the Prince pointed out.

“They abandoned it when we gave chase, Your Highness,” said the guard holding Kenma. “The small one over there has hidden his somewhere in the forest and this one with the odd hair--” he shook Kenma more than a little roughly-- “assaulted us with the sack of food he absconded with.”

“We need it more than you do!” Noya shouted. All it earned him was having his face be shoved into the dirt with a little more force.

That was what finally spurred Kenma into action. He moved to help Noya, forgetting he was currently being held and nearly choked himself when the guard yanked back on his shirt. “Not so fast,” the guard growled, “or do you want to end up with your face in the dirt like your friend?”

The Prince’s frown deepened, something sparking behind his eyes. “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

“Your Highness, it’s more than thieves like this deserve,” the head guard spoke. “This one,” he jerked his head at Noya, “has practically admitted his guilt. The other one hasn’t had anything to say yet, not even a claim of innocence.”

“Well,” the Prince’s friend said, eyes back on Kenma, “are you going to at least try and defend your actions?” Kenma’s mouth stayed firmly shut. It wasn’t like he’d be able to answer even if he wanted to. The other man waited, but when no answer was forthcoming he continued. “I’m a prince in my own right, you know,” the young man continued, “and I’m finding your lack of an answer very disrespectful.”

“That’s unfair,” Noya said. He’d managed to turn his head to the side so he could continue to mouth off at the guards and apparent nobels without swallowing dirt at the same time.

“Giving him a chance to speak for himself? I think I’m being more than fair.”

“Prince Tooru, that’s enough,” Prince Kuroo said, shaking his head. He appeared exasperated with the entire situation but not angry. Kenma hoped that was a good thing.

“Go on, boy,” Prince Tooru said, a self satisfied grin on his face. “Cat have your tongue?” He stared Kenma down as he spoke. “Now I’m really curious about what you might have to say.”

“He can’t speak!” Noya insisted.

Kenma vehemently made a sign he hoped Noya could see.  _ Bad idea _ . He didn’t know why he was suddenly so reluctant to share his mute status but his reaction was too late to stop Noya’s words from being heard. 

“Can’t, not won’t?” Prince Kuroo said, quickly picking up of the particulars of the words used. 

“Your Highness,” the head guard said, “you needn’t worry yourself with the affairs of thieves. Our apologies for this riff-raff taking up so much of your time. We’ll take them away for punishment now.”

“No.” the Prince said. Almost everyone turned to look at the Prince in surprise and even he was looking startled at what he said. He cleared his throat and quickly added to his command. “That is, no, you don’t need to punish them.”

“They did steal from you,” Prince Tooru said. “You’ll let that slight go unpunished?”

Prince Kuroo frowned, seemingly annoyed at what the other prince had pointed out. Or perhaps he was just annoyed at being questioned in the first place. “They don’t even have the stolen items with them.”

“They were caught red-handed, Your Highness,” the head guard said. “We have the bag the blond one threw at us as evidence and multiple witnesses.”

“Imprison them,” Prince Kuroo said after a moment of looking torn. “You’re right, they stole from  _ me _ so it’s only fitting I am the one to see to their punishment personally. They can come back to the city and I’ll decide on their punishment then.”

The guards nodded, jumping into action. Noya was pulled up from the dirt with the help of a second guard, each of them taking an arm and dragging him back towards the camp. Kenma was marched along close behind but gave in to the urge to glance backwards. Again the Prince had a frown on his face, a thoughtful crease to his brow as he locked eyes with Kenma. They didn’t break eye contact until Kenma was shoved roughly and forced to look forward once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Edited 21/12 for spelling and grammar.


	3. Prisoners

The first night in the Prince’s camp was the most stressful for Kenma and Noya. After being roughly escorted ahead of the Prince back to the small city of tents they had their wrists bound in metal cuffs that were in turn chained to a peg in the ground. It wasn’t a great position to be in but they had the ability to move around in a small radius if inclined to. The only other saving grace was they had been placed off to the side of the camp which meant there were less people to gawk at them. Noya had complained almost the entire way back and for some time after they had been chained up. He complained about their treatment, he complained about how unfair they were being, and he complained about snobby royalty. He had eventually fallen silent when the two guards left to watch them stopped providing him with a response.

They’d been sitting quietly for an extended period of time in their makeshift prison when Noya finally spoke again. “Sorry,” he whispered. This time his words were only for Kenma’s ears. “Turns out this was a bad idea.” He used Kenma’s hand sign for ‘ _ bad idea’ _ as he said it to provide emphasis.

Kenma shrugged, making the sign for ‘ _ it’s fine’ _ . He followed up by pointing to himself and the sign for ‘ _ help’ _ .

Noya snorted, disbelieving. “You agreed to do it in the end, but you didn’t want to originally.” He shifted a little closer to Kenma, nudging him gently and causing the chains to jingle. “So I’m still sorry.”

Kenma leaned in to Noya, lazily making the ‘ _ it’s fine’ _ sign again.

“What are you doing?” one of the guards asked, side eyeing their interactions. Of course to an outsider the hand signs they’d developed for communication would be seen as suspicious or strange.

Kenma just rolled his eyes at the guard’s accusation poorly disguised as a question, but he felt Noya tense up next to him. The other boy was bristling and indignant. 

“We’re having a conversation,” Noya said. “I figured because we weren’t gagged that wasn’t a problem.”

The guard chuckled. “We can change that if you like.”

“You could try.” Noya moved to stand but Kenma pulled him back down.

He shook his head. ‘ _ Bad idea’ _ .

The guard watched curiously as Kenma made his hand sign, looking back and forth between him and Noya. When he was unable to make sense of what was being said between the pair he scoffed. “Not much of a conversation when only one of you can talk.”

Noya’s growl in response was audible. He looked about ready to make a jump towards the guard again when a new voice startled them all.  

“You were asked to watch the prisoners, not antagonise them.”

Both the guards snapped to attention in front of the newcomer, obviously someone who ranked highly based in his uniform and the reaction of the other guards. He held a plate in his hand and was staring darkly at his two subordinates. “You’re relieved for the night,” he added. “I’ll take over the watch.”

The two guards saluted and made themselves scarce, not daring to question their new orders. It was only once they were gone and the face of the remaining guard softened that Kenma realised he recognised the other. He had been by the Prince’s side earlier in the day. Kenma had originally thought he was just another noble along for the hunt but it was clear now he was wrong. The man did appear to work closely with the Prince however, the very same Prince who had ordered them be arrested, which had Kenma a little wary. 

The guard turned his attention to them, appearance nowhere near as intimidating now that it was only the three of them. “I apologise,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that, even if you are prisoners of the Prince.” The man stepped forward and placed the plate of food down in front of Kenma and Noya. It wasn’t much, just some bread and cheese, but it was still of a better quality than they had in a long time. “I am Asahi Azumane,” Asahi said, “personal guard to crown prince Tetsuro Kuroo.”

Noya eyed the food suspiciously but Kenma reached for it as soon as Asahi had backed up. He may not have been able to communicate very well anymore but it didn’t stop him from being able to read people. The Prince, or the Prince’s guard at least, meant them no harm in offering the food. What he clearly wanted was information. 

Seeing Kenma dig into the food with little fanfare Noya followed suit, but only after giving the Prince’s guard the stink eye for a good few seconds. He also chose, for once, to remain silent. If Asahi wanted information from them he was going to have to work for it. 

He gave Kenma and Noya a moment to just enjoy their food, and enjoy it they did. The bread was fresh, crust crisp and insides soft, while the cheese was aged and full of flavour. Perhaps there were some perks to being prisoners of the prince, Kenma had thought as he chewed idly on a chuck of cheese. They weren’t left to eat in peace however, and eventually Asahi did try to broach conversation.

Asahi cleared his throat, eyes on Noya. “Your friend has some very strange hair,” he said, nodding at Kenma.

“What about it?” Noya retorted after aggressively swallowing a chunk of bread so he could get the words out quickly. Of all the things Asahi had to start with, thought Kenma, it had to be one of their biggest sore points.

“I don’t mean any offense,” Asahi said quickly, “It just stood out, is all.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not a good thing around here.” Noya huffed.

Kenma tugged on Noya’s sleeve, drawing his attention away from Asahi. As discreetly as possible under the eyes of their watchful guardian he made another hand sign. ‘ _ Less’ _ . Noya, the good friend that he’d become, was able to quickly discern the meaning behind the simple word gesture.  _ Tone it down _ , was what Kenma meant. There was no use in antagonising their captors when it was likely they were going to be stuck with them for the foreseeable future. Not to mention antagonising one of the few people who was trying to be nice to them seemed counterproductive.

“Sorry,” Noya said, still managing to sound somewhat surly. “The hair thing has caused us more than a few issues.” He glanced to Kenma, checking to see if he had the go ahead to continue. Kenma gave him a small nod. “Issues that lead to a misguided attempt to steal from the Prince, not that we knew it was the Prince we were stealing from at the time.”

That gave the Prince’s guard pause. “I don’t understand,” Asahi said. “What does the colour of your hair have to do with any of that?”

“It means you’ve been touched by magic. Or at least that’s what people believe. Do they not have that story in the cities?”

“They do, I just don’t understand why that is an issue.”

Both Kenma and Noya were surprised by this piece of information, exchanging glances as if to check that the other had heard the same thing. Outside of Kenma’s parents’ town, this was the first either of them had heard about people not immediately turning tail and running at the sight of someone with blond hair. Kenma hadn’t even thought that things might be different elsewhere, so used to scorn after years of living with Nekomata.

“Here, in our village, people don’t like the idea of magic,” Noya finally settled on as a response. 

“I see,” Asahi said. Kenma wondered how much he did see though, as a mildly confused look was still present on his face. “That is… quite different to the beliefs held in the city.”

“Well it’s not like we could just up and move to the city now, is it?”

“Is that why you were stealing from the Prince’s camp?” Asahi asked. “Were you unable to purchase food from the people in your village?”

“Something like that,” Noya said. Kenma nodded along with Noya’s answer, drawing Asahi’s attention back to him. 

“What happened to your friend?” Asahi asked as Kenma shrunk under his gaze. “For him to not speak,” he clarified. “Was it an injury?”

Noya glanced to Kenma. Noya might have been the more talkarive of the two but he knew when he could and couldn’t speak for Kenma. This was definitely one of the times when he looked to Kenma for guidance. ‘ _ It’s fine _ ,’ Kenma signed, and Noya took it as a go ahead to speak freely. 

“Don’t know,” he said honestly. “He just came back from the forest one day and couldn’t talk.”

Asahi frowned at that. Kenma thought the expression was wrought with suspicion at first. When he looked closer he was surprised to find genuine concern in the other man’s eyes. It was uncommon, and slightly unnerving because of that. Suspicion would almost have been welcome-- at least he was used to that. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Asahi said. “Perhaps, after you’ve served out your punishment in the city, you can find someone who might be able to help. I could look into it for you, if you’d like?”

“You’d really do that?” Noya asked, sounding like he couldn’t figure out why anyone would go out of their way to help them. “Help out  _ thieves? _ ”

Asahi just shrugged. He was far more nonchalant about the situation than either Noya or Kenma. “You don’t really seem like your typical thieves, and I’ve made it my job to help and protect people.”

“Don’t you mean help and protect the Pince?”

“There’s no rule saying I can’t extend that privilege to others if it doesn’t interfere with my job.”

Noya just nodded, handing Kenma a chunk of the bread as he thought the words over. Kenma himself couldn’t help but wonder what it might mean if the Prince’s guard, this Asahi, actually followed through on his offer. It might have been pointless and optimistic to get his hopes up but maybe it would be worth it to stay on Asahi’s good side anyway.

Kenma gave Noya a light nudge. When he had the other boy’s attention he pointed at Noya, then himself, then to Asahi. Noya looked confused for a moment but a repetition of the gestures with the addition of the sign ‘ _ speak’ _ clued him in to what Kenma wanted. 

“I’m Noya,” Noya said finally to Asahi, “and this is Kenma. Now, what exactly do you mean by someone who can help?”

The conversation continued with all but one of them unaware of a fourth person listening in on what was being said. This eavesdropper was none other than the Prince himself, Tetsuro Kuroo, straining his ears to hear from the shadows of a nearby tent. 

It had been his idea to send his personal guard to converse with the two prisoners they had brought back to the camp. The eavesdropping was entirely unbecoming of his station but there was no way he was about to make his presence known. If the pair would barely talk to Asahi, the nicest man Kuroo had met in his line of work, then there was no way they would talk freely with the Prince present. Especially not when he was the one to force them back to the city with his party. 

The more he heard of their story though, the more he was starting to think maybe his decision to bring them along hadn't been such a bad idea. If anyone were to ask him why he had decided to arrest the pair when it was clearly more of a hassle than any other option, Kuroo was confident he could come up with dozens of plausible and regal explanations. None of them would be the truth though. 

The truth was he didn’t know why he made the decision he did. From the minute he’d laid eyes on the mute young man-- Kenma-- a feeling has reared up inside of him. It was a feeling that practically screamed to not let Kenma get away from him, like something terrible would happen if he did. It was crazy and it didn’t make sense in the slightest, but as soon as he’d ordered the pair brought back to the camp he was rewarded with a sudden calm. He knew, somehow, that he had made the right choice.

Kuroo had been naive to think it would simply end there though. Since returning to camp Kenma had taken up a seat in the back of his mind and wouldn’t leave. It was like an itch that wasn’t quite an itch. An uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t know how to alleviate. It was why, in the end, he sent Asahi to find out more about Kenma and his friend. Surely more information would help him to figure out just what was going on. 

It wasn’t until magic had been brought up in the conversation by Kenma’s friend, Noya, that Kuroo began to have an inkling about the source of the day’s strange events.

“Hey, hey, hey! So these are the two thieves Prince Tooru was going on about.”

Kuroo nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud voice in his ear and was quick to shove Koutarou back and away from where Asahi and the prisoners were. For someone with such a loud voice, Kuroo was still constantly surprised at just how quietly Koutarou could move when he wanted to. 

“Are you trying to kill me!” Kuroo whisper-yelled, one hand held over his racing heart. “Or worse yet,  _ out me? _ ”

Koutarou just shrugged and tried to lean around Kuroo to get a better look at Kenma and Noya. He was quickly thwarted by Kuroo planting a hand on his face and shoving him back again. Honestly, and his father complained that  _ he _ was childish on occasion.

“Prince Tooru said you were acting all strange about two thieves the guards caught, so I thought I’d come see what all the fuss was about. Didn't expect to catch you spying though.” Koutarou waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner that Kuroo hated from the moment his friend figured out he could move his brow in such a way.

“Well, Prince Tooru needs to learn when to shut his mouth. And I wasn’t spying,” Kuroo said, despite the fact he was very much spying and knew it. Surely there was some loophole about it not being spying if it was a member of the royal family spying on their prisoners. Or maybe he was allowed to spy on anyone regardless, thanks to his royal blood. It was times like this Kuroo wished he’d paid more attention when being taught about the laws of the kingdom, if only so he knew what he could and couldn’t get away with.

“Too late for that,” Koutarou said. “Our good friend the Prince of the Islands is regaling anyone who comes within twenty feet the story of his amazing wit in the face of  _ dangerous ruffian thieves _ . His words, not mine.”

“The only thing amazing about Tooru is his sense for politics and his ego.”

Koutarou chuckled. “True, true.”

With the lull in conversation, Kuroo took the chance to peek around the tent again. He was pleased to see Asahi was still talking with the pair and he made a mental note to get the details from his guard later that night.

“Prince Tooru was right, you are acting strangely.”

Kuroo turned back to his friend so Koutarou could experience the full brunt of his disbelieving expression. “What do you mean ‘acting strangely’? I’m acting like I always do.” Even as he said the words Kuroo knew they were lie. 

“You’re weirdly obsessed. Since when do you care about prisoners of the crown? They’re just a couple of down on their luck villagers who thought it was a good idea to steal but you’re watching them. You sent Asahi to go talk to them. How is that not behaving strangely?” Koutarou nodded his head sagely. “There’s something off here, so what is it?”

Kuroo sighed. In all honesty he still didn’t know why he was so drawn to the pair of them, to Kenma. If he had to guess, here and now, the strange feeling when he had first laid eyes on Kenma was some kind of magic. It would explain why he had been so reluctant to let them go, why he had ordered them to be brought back for their punishments in a move that, in retrospect, was entirely out of character for him. If it was magic though, what kind of magic was it? Where did originate from? Was this a benevolent force or a malicious one?

Kuroo shook his head, dismissing the thoughts to be pondered upon later. “I don’t know, Koutarou,” he said. “Just gut feeling I guess.”

“Well, I hope your gut is able to come up with a reason for why you’re bringing two common thieves all the way back to the castle. His Majesty, your dad, is going to be so mad.” Koutarou slapped him heartily on the arm, like that would take away the worry his words had just brought bubbling to the surface. Ugh, Kuroo had thought, all these emotions and critical thinking are making me tired.

“Thanks, you’re a real pal, you know that?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure the future king knows what he’s doing.”

“You’re hardly a great role model of forward thinking yourself,” Kuroo snarked.

Koutarou just laughed and wrapped an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders, steering him away from the prisoners corner of camp and back towards the middle.

“Maybe not, but you know what I have put a lot of thought into?”

“What have you put a lot of thought into?”

“Exactly how much I’m going to enjoy this boar you and our charming Prince Tooru brought back from your hunt.”

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Kuroo said, clapping his hands together. “What are we waiting for then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Edited 22/12 for spelling and grammar, and name consistency.


End file.
